


Pierce the Earth

by hippydeath



Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, M/M, Permanent Injury, Post Battle of Five Armies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-18
Updated: 2013-03-18
Packaged: 2017-12-05 18:29:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/726462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hippydeath/pseuds/hippydeath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Battle of the Five Armies came and went and took from all. The years since have been kind, but sometimes Kíli still forgets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pierce the Earth

**Author's Note:**

> So this is one of those 1am fics that your parents warn you about. Originally it was written on my phone in a fit of "ffs, why won't my brain shut up" and then I fixed the copious spelling mistakes and padded it into something that made slightly more sense.  
> Barring a few snippets of porn that haven't seen the light of the internet, this is my first foray into this fandom. 
> 
> I have plenty of thoughts on the two of them surviving the BotFA (in various states of disrepair) but they don't really fit here. I kind of figure there's a time and place to write sprawling epics of recovery and adjustment, and 1am on my phone is not that place.

In the years after, he’ll close his eyes and remember the feel of a bow string against his fingers, the weight of the bow contesting with the strength in his arms, the ache of the strain in muscles that aren’t there anymore. He’ll feel the draw but he’ll always open his eyes again before he can feel the release. 

In the early days after, once he’d healed as much as he was ever going to, he’d go to raise the arm and bring himself up short, truncating the movement as his mind remembered what his body didn’t. A few times, eyes closed, he’d drawn what was left of the arm back, only to have to remind himself that he couldn’t. Not anymore.

He taught himself to write again with his off hand, made sure his sword forms were as good as they ever had been, toyed with Fíli’s throwing axes, the same ones that he’d laughed at when they were both younger. He knew the value of a ranged weapon, but somehow there was something unsatisfying about them, something incomplete that would never take the place of bow and arrow.

Neither of them have much time to train or spar these days, and while they’re warned that something dark is coming, while they worry at the silence from Moria, they live in peace for now, and make the most of it, rebuilding Erebor and reforging alliances that had long been neglected. One or the other of them will occasionally lead a patrol out to deal with Orcs or Goblins or even the odd group of human bandits, and there are times when Kíli watches his brother and sees the tension in the skin around his eyes, the way he clenches his fists on the arms of the throne, he’ll take the two of them off out into the wilds for a few days. It’s rare that they can be spared, but they hunt, and it’s almost like it was when they were young.

He’s kept busy during the days; diplomacy, bureaucracy, all the things he could never be bothered with in his youth, but even then it will catch him, even all these years later, and in the evenings he’ll be quiet and snappish. Fíli treats him as he ever has, brooks no argument and offers him only what pity he deserves.

They sit together in the quiet of one of their rooms, Fíli reading or writing letters, Kíli doing nothing for the most part, maybe chattering a little, or reading, if he can still himself for long enough, and if he ever closes his eyes and feels the pull of a bowstring, if he whimpers from an ache in muscles that aren’t there anymore, his brother is there for him with soothing words and gentle hands that can never stop the pain that isn’t there, but can distract him a while at least.

And when he finally falls into bed afterwards, the lamps set low and his muscles relaxed, he can close his eyes and there’s nothing there.


End file.
